


The Beloved Princess

by Lentus



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Female Jon Snow, Gen, Idiots in Love, R Plus L Equals J, Theon never sailed to the Iron Islands, of course
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 23:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14152152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lentus/pseuds/Lentus
Summary: "The worst fears are those we have created, but it is the candle lit by precaution in the dark that makes them even more terrifying and more ours. They lie there, in that irrational corner of the unconscious, waiting for a single spark of the linen tied to the wax to burn. And when they burn... nothing burns colder than fear."Robb and Lyarra are wedded after the battle for the dawn. Fortunely, Robb is a special candle to Lyarra.





	The Beloved Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody, this is my first work EVER just to you know. English is not my first language but I try my "best". I'm only publishing it because I have more then that but I am not certain about my writting style. So if you like it, I will continue. Good reading!

Lyarra stared melancholic at the incandescent flames from the white candles of the candelabrum illuminating the glossy surface of the ebony desk and a fraction of the granite-erected wall of the gloomy enclosure. Lively, genious and untamed. _Free._ They became even wilder with the wind that opened without permission the slit of the blue silk curtains, revealing therefore the white pearl floating in the upward above the calm black sea and infinite with its reefs of celestial and brilliant, canoes that her immense dragons were in the midst of this endless ambiguous ocean. The strong silver luminescence of the bright algae that stood out reflecting from the bottom of these waters at the most diverse angles formed a constant covering the castle, trespassing the innumerable masses of air that guarded the high mountains of the North thus appearing on the spherical porch of her tower landing softly in the gray marble of the room, bringing with him the coolness of the night at her bare feet and the cold sea breeze of the charged clouds filling her nostrils and occupying her young lungs. The droplets, also know as snowflakes, landed on her thin nose as if there were their destinations, right at the graceful end of the winter queen's nostrils. And they did not melt as expected, there hung and turned part of her being. Like the orange and warm ancestral fire of the golden bracket that ran in her blood and made her valirian heart beat. Hot and icy. _Ice and Fire._

The gold of the rod was mirrored in the intricate beaker being guarded by the protection of her delicate hands. With the moonlight attaing his eyelids, Ghost quietly returned from his sleep, fidgeting a little, and fixed his reticles over his mistress. The movement got her out of her thoughts and soon she noted the ruby eyes of her dozy guardian. Lyarra gave a sad smile to him and extended the other arm by the length of the velvet bed to stroke the more-than-welcome chant behind his fluffy ear. He purred in contentment and made a point of approaching getting to stay glue with the wooden base. She gave in and finally lay down supported by her elbow in the turquoise blue fabric that tickled her skin while the wolf snuggled into a fluffy ball, showing his silent happiness by the constant hum.

Her head turned like a whip to the harsh sound of the creaking door filling the whole room, and she drew back, clumsily resting the cup back to the polished wood in a thud deaf to her ears. Two boots burst into the sealed dark and the chandelier did the rest blending its flames with the orange hair and revealing Robb's pretty face with his gentle, warm blue eyes. Her heart did a jump and she scolded herself internally for it.

 

"Lyarra."

 

"Robb."

 

And so the silence replaced the air of their lungs as the door closed. She could not stand his eyes on her and she bowed her head, stirring uncomfortably the hem of her white silk dress with her thumbs, a blush colored her cheeks and made a real sight with her amethyst eyes staring only the ground beneath her long lashes. The movement was abrupt as opposed to the harmony they carried in contact with the chords of the so dear harp. It was the calmness instead of this outrageous silence. Music. _Wonderful._

 

"We do not have to do this."

**Author's Note:**

> The quote is mine!! I Swear!!


End file.
